"I know not if it is any thing!" she answered. "But— My father has been at court, in the hands of the bishop's confessor, and a man has come back with him whose looks I like not. You know my father. He thinks he is so secret, and a child can make him tell all he knows and more."
"Ay, I understand!" said Mr. Batie, composedly. "I had wind of this before. Go home, my child, and give no hint of having been here. I know you can be discreet."
Bessy went away looking greatly relieved, for she had unbounded faith in Mr. Batie's wisdom.
"My life for hers!" I answered. "Bessy is not bright, but she is good all through."
"Give me goodness before brightness, and faith before all things," said Mr. Batie. (N. B. He would have stopped to make a moral if he had seen a tiger just ready to spring on him.) "Curtis, how is your mistress?"
"Well as one can expect, sir, all things considered," answered Mistress Curtis. "She went to her room, but I think it was but to avoid Mr. Giggs."
"Ay, we must avoid him to purpose," said Mr. Batie. "The chattering magpie hath brought the bishop's confessor down upon us. His Grace being taken with a great zeal for the purity of religion in his diocese, is determined that all who will not conform must suffer the penalty, and all English fugitives are the special objects of his wrath, out of compliment to our gracious queen's consort, Philip of Spain, I presume."
"Philip of Spain!" I exclaimed. "Hath she really married King Philip? Well, if the English bear that!"
"I begin to think the English will bear any thing, so they have beer enow!" said Master Batie bitterly. "But we must waste no time talking politics; we must make our escape to Wesel this very night."
"Impossible, sir!" exclaimed Mistress Curtis. "Think of my mistress and her condition. How would she bear the shaking of a litter or a horse?"